The blaring music grated on my nerves, and my eyes kept getting drawn to the drunken, dancing bodies around me. I’ve never been a fan of nightclubs, but tonight was my sister’s bachelorette party, and I had no choice but to endure this torture. Unlike me, Inna thrived in places like this—she was in her element, completely at ease. After downing yet another cocktail, the bride-to-be dragged me onto the dance floor, which was awash in a kaleidoscope of colors from the flashing spotlights. As I moved to the beat, mimicking smooth, flowing gestures, I suddenly noticed a bright white sphere materialize out of nowhere.
From it emerged a bizarre creature, standing on two legs and scanning the crowd for someone. Its head resembled a massive bulldog or shar-pei, with deep wrinkles, a triangular nose, pointed ears, black eyes, and sharp teeth. A small hump on its back didn’t make it look hunched, and the four arms extending from its shoulders seemed oddly fitting on its towering, two-meter frame. The creature stood confidently on two enormous paws. It wore short black pants that looked like capris and something akin to a T-shirt with four slits for its arms. Sparse gray fur was visible only on its legs and a small tail, for which there was a hole cut in the pants.
Seeing this thing, I immediately wanted to track down the costume designers who’d come up with such a wild idea. As if it sensed my thoughts, the creature strode toward me with quick, purposeful steps. For a few seconds, it stared intently at my face, then leaned in close. I felt its cold nose against my neck as it sniffed the scent of my perfume. It pulled back, wrinkling its nose in distaste. Up close, the costume looked incredibly realistic—if I’d run into something like this on the street, I’d have bolted without a second thought.
I noticed three guys and a girl step out of the sphere next. A crowd instantly formed around them, everyone eager for a show. The girl aimed a strange pistol at the creature, firing a glowing orb, while two of the guys grabbed it from behind. The dog-like being collapsed onto them with its full weight, but they managed to drag it back into the sphere. The performance struck me as odd, but the audience loved it, erupting into loud applause.
My attention was suddenly captured by an incredibly handsome guy who had also emerged from the sphere. He wouldn’t take his eyes off mine. Tall, with coal-black hair that perfectly complemented his dark suit—a long vest with triangular tips, tailored pants, and heavy boots—he exuded an air of mystery. Two daggers peeked out from under a wide belt. His deep blue eyes stood out strikingly against his tanned skin, and a short, scruffy beard added to his enigmatic charm.
He seemed frozen, studying me intently. His piercing gaze sent a warm shiver through my body, and my heart started pounding so hard I could feel my skin tingling above it. There was something about this man that drew me in, something magnetic. I noticed a glowing circle on his chest—probably the light from a phone tucked into his pocket. Odd, though, that it was a circle and not a rectangle. But that thought quickly faded as he strode confidently toward me, extended his hand, and said:
“Come with me.”
Ah, now it made sense—these must be entertainers. Someone had the bright idea to hire special dancers for the bachelorette party. His strange outfit and chiseled physique supported my theory, though I still couldn’t quite figure out the dog costume. I quickly tried to decline:
“She’s the bride,” I said, nodding toward my sister. “Take her instead.”
I didn’t want to be the center of attention, especially since I suspected a steamy dance was coming up. But the stranger didn’t wait for my consent. He grabbed my hand firmly.
“I need you.”
His voice sent chills down my spine. Inna, egging me on, practically pushed me into his arms. He led me confidently toward the mysterious sphere. My legs seemed to have a mind of their own, obediently following my companion. As we reached the orb, a blinding light seared my eyes. I felt his hand on my waist, and his touch filled my body with warmth. He leaned in and whispered in my ear:
“Close your eyes and trust me.”
Trusting him would be tough, but the light was so intense that my eyes shut on their own. Following his lead, I moved forward blindly. We stopped, and he held me tighter. My head spun, my breath grew shallow, and my legs buckled. I nearly collapsed, but his strong arms kept me upright. His calming voice broke through the haze:
“Breathe deeply. In and out. The first time is always like this. It’ll get easier.”
Once my breathing steadied, he let me open my eyes. I found myself in a spacious room, completely devoid of furniture. My head was still spinning, so they carefully sat me down on a small couch that, as it turned out, was behind me. My gaze landed on the man in the dog costume. My companion approached the creature, inspected it, and gave an order to a red-haired man with green eyes and a short beard, and a red-haired woman beside him:
“Take it to the holding cell. We’ll interrogate it later.”
They said something else, but I didn’t catch it, distracted by a guy with short, light brown hair and brown eyes who approached me:
“Drink this. It’ll help.” He handed me a glass of green liquid with an unpleasant smell. “Akentus! Say ‘Akentus.’”
“Akentus? Is that what this drink is called?” I asked. He nodded uncertainly, and I downed the glass. The taste was strange but not awful, with a hint of sourness. My left wrist started itching intensely, and I couldn’t help but scratch it. Suddenly, I realized how attractive this guy was. A rush of intense feelings and admiration surged through me. I wanted nothing more than to hide away with him, far from everyone else, just the two of us. Then my earlier companion approached and asked:
“What’s your name, beautiful?”
Beautiful? I mean, I’m not unattractive, but I’ve never considered myself a beauty. My tanned skin, thick eyebrows, full lips—trendy by today’s standards—long black hair that falls past my waist, and blue eyes are a mix of my heritage. My mom was Ukrainian, my dad Arab, and that combination gave me this look: a dark-skinned girl with striking blue eyes that often catch people off guard. I quietly answered:
“Adriana.”
The guy introduced me to the others. His name was Kiros, the one who gave me the drink was Jorah, the red-haired man was Lucas, and the woman was Cassandra. These were probably their stage names—odd that they didn’t use their real ones. They all stared at me with curiosity, and I couldn’t take it anymore:
“Are we backstage or something? Can you take me back to the club? I’m feeling better now.”
I caught looks of confusion on their faces. They exchanged glances, and Kiros spoke up:
“You’re not in the club. We’re in another world, one that exists parallel to yours. We got here through a portal—what you called a sphere.”
I don’t remember saying that out loud, but what bothered me more was this prank that was clearly dragging on too long. Jorah took my hand and turned to Kiros with gratitude:
“You brought my wife. How did you know? Of course, I never doubted your power as a mage, but to sense it so clearly—that’s incredible.”
Kiros muttered irritably:
“What are you talking about? I brought my wife. There’s a connection between us, and the rune on my body proves it.”
Jorah lowered his eyes guiltily and touched my hand, showing everyone my wrist and his. On both, there was a clear blue circle with intricate patterns inside. The designs were identical. I hadn’t even noticed when they’d drawn it on me. Kiros, as if unable to believe his eyes, stared at our hands before exploding in anger:
“This can’t be. She’s my reflection. How do you explain the rune on my body?”
He unbuttoned his vest, revealing a green circle with seven spokes on the skin over his heart. It was similar to the one on my hand but slightly different. Cassandra gasped, as if she’d seen something unbelievable. Kiros stepped closer, looming over me menacingly:
“Show me right now if you have the same rune.”
I was outraged by his audacity. I had no intention of exposing my chest to everyone. Despite my refusal, Kiros ignored my protests, tore at my green dress, and scrutinized the area he wanted to see. I tried to cover myself with my hands, but he grabbed them tightly, his eyes searching:
“Where’s your rune? I saw it glowing. I couldn’t have been wrong.”
I nearly shouted in response to his bizarre words:
“I don’t have any rune, and I never did. Leave me alone. Your behavior is unacceptable.”
He released my hands and turned away, clearly upset, slowly walking off. I gathered the torn fabric of my dress, trying to cover myself. Jorah sat closer to me:
“Maybe you made a mistake and took the wrong girl. Either way, I’m grateful, because now my destined one is here.”
He gently took my hand again. I had no idea what was happening and demanded answers:
“Will someone explain what’s going on?”